Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
